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How It Ends
How It Ends
How It Ends
Ebook389 pages5 hours

How It Ends

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Following her stunning and critically acclaimed novels Such a Pretty Girl and Leftovers, Laura Wiess crafts a riveting and emotionally powerful tale of beauty, destruction...and love.

Seventeen-year-old Hanna has been in love with Seth for as long as she can remember, but now that she and Seth are in an actual relationship, love isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Seth is controlling and all they seem to do anymore is fight. If that’s what love is, Hanna doesn’t want any part of it. Besides, she has something else on her mind: graduation. But she’s been ignoring the school’s community service requirement, and now she needs to rack up some hours in a hurry.

Hanna volunteers as a caretaker for her neighbor Mrs. Schoenmaker—an elderly woman with advanced Parkinson’s whose husband can’t always be there to watch over her. While caring for Mrs. S., Hanna becomes mesmerized by an audiobook that the older woman is listening to, a love story of passion, sacrifice, and complete devotion. She’s fascinated by the idea that love like that really exists, and slowly, the story begins to change her. But what Hanna doesn’t know is that the story she’s listening to is not fiction—and that Mrs. Schoenmaker and her husband’s devotion to each other is about to reach its shattering, irrevocable conclusion...

Spellbinding, timeless, and achingly poignant, How It Ends is a story of how love ends, how it begins, and how people and events have the ability to change who we are without our even realizing it.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherMTV Books
Release dateAug 4, 2009
ISBN9781439164228
How It Ends
Author

Laura Wiess

Laura Wiess is the author of the critically acclaimed novels Such a Pretty Girl, chosen as one of the ALA’s 2008 Best Books for Young Adults and 2008 YALSA Quick Picks for Reluctant Readers, and Leftovers. Originally from Milltown, New Jersey, she traded bumper-to-bumper traffic, excellent pizza, and summer days down the shore for scenic roads, bears, no pizza delivery, and the irresistible allure of an old stone house surrounded by forests in Pennsylvania’s Endless Mountains Region. Email Laura Wiess at laura@laurawiess.com or visit LauraWiess.com for more information.

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Reviews for How It Ends

Rating: 4.450000143333333 out of 5 stars
4.5/5

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  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    When I tell you I sobbed, I mean it. Wiess knows how to pull on your heartstrings. Hanna’s character arc is excellent.
  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    My goodness, Laura Wiess certainly knows how to write a book that pulls a punch and demands a raw, emotional response from the reader. By the end of this book, I was sobbing . . . so sad!!!! "How it Ends" deals with life and death, true love, loneliness, heartache and strength of character. At times Hanna's naivety annoyed me and I wanted to shake her, but I loved Helen's story. A truly beautiful, poignant novel that will require a box of tissues to read.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    I thought this book was just lovely. It was so different from Wiess's other two books, but in a fantastic way. It didn't fit into the usual mold of books about a teenage girl, because it was so much more than that because of Hanna's relationship with her neighbor Helen.

    Helen's life story was so sad and a bit scary to read, but she and her husband built a beautiful life with each other and loved Hanna very much. I loved following Hanna as she sort of had to decide what kind of person to be in life and seeing how her neighbors had shaped her as she grew up.
  • Rating: 3 out of 5 stars
    3/5
    It was a good read until the last 1/3 of the book and then the story just got stupid. The heroine was a fairly empathetic teen and then it just got silly - she couldn't figure out the main point of the story.

    1 person found this helpful

  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    How It Ends is too, too sad. Teenaged Hanna has a close bond with her next door neighbors who have been like grandparents to her through the years. Now that she’s older, she wants to be with people her own age and doesn’t make as much time for them. But the neighbors, Helen and Lon, aren’t doing so well; both have health problems and need medications in excess of their insurance. While Hanna tries to make things work with her crush, Helen slips deeper into Parkinson’s hell. It’s too late for Helen to give Hanna advice, but she has left the truth of her life story—a story she had completely re-spun into a fairy tale—for Hanna to hear. The amazingly well-written story of How It Ends and the book within the book (also called How It Ends) had me in tears more than I would like to admit. Another thing I’d really rather not admit is how much I recognize Hanna. Sometimes book characters are incredibly relatable and Hanna is one of them. Even when she made bad choices, I understood why she would make them. I cheered for her when something made her happy and had my heart break when hers did.

    1 person found this helpful

  • Rating: 4 out of 5 stars
    4/5
    This book was great and I could not put it down until I was done. I did have my doubts reading the first few chapters as I really did not like Hanna and thought she was a total ditz. However, as you read the book you get to start to see the softer side of her personality as you learn about the start of her relationship with Grandma Helen. The chapters alternate between Hanna’s point of view and Helen’s point of view. Helen also intrigues the reader as she keeps referring to some dark secret she has kept from Hanna and how she needs to know the truth before Helen dies. It isn’t until about half way through that you begin to find out what this secret is and how it is going to be revealed to Hanna.Watching Hanna’s relationship with Seth made me cringe and wonder how she could she keep being such a glutton for punishment and yet it is so real. I remember crushing over guys and trying to justify some of their jerkiness (is that even a word?) because you have put them up on this pedestal. The story keeps you wondering how much will she put up with and will Seth ever change?While sad because you know Helen is terminally ill this book was still uplifting in it’s own way as you see the touching relationship between Hanna and Helen and the love story of how Helen and her husband met.

    1 person found this helpful

  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    Wow. Laura Wiess REALLY knows how to write a young adult book. I am continually shocked that she's not as well-known or more than Laurie Halse Anderson and the like. This book alternates between the perspective of Hanna, a 15-16 year old girl, and Helen, Hanna's elderly lady who she has always called Gran. These two were very close when Hanna was a child and, to Helen's chagrin, Hanna spends less time with her now that she has entered high school and discovered boys and parties. At first, I was annoyed that Helen was so preoccupied with what Hanna was doing and why Hanna wasn't calling her or stopping by as much. "This Helen seems like a pretty together broad," I thought. "She has a loving husband and a lot of things to do. Why is she so concerned with the comings and goings of her teenage neighbor?" This question was answered later in the book, so don't let that bother ya too much. Helen has always tried to shield Hanna from the harsh realities of life. She cared for Hanna for a period of time when her parents were separated and trying to work out their problems, and noticed that the child was always hungry for a happy ending. She tried her best to satisfy this by telling Hanna made-up stories about her own life when she was younger, which Hanna eats up with wide-eyed curiosity. Here's the rub: as Gran gets older, she starts losing her memory, and forgets the tales she told Hanna. She even forgets the wonderfully romantic lie of how she supposedly met her adoring husband, Lon. The real story is supposedly much, much, much, MUCH less pleasant. While reading, I was wondering how a person could meet a true, lasting love in a way that's not romantic at all. Well, Helen and Lon managed it, and it was terrifying. Before she succumbs entirely to senility and Parkinson's disease, she writes down her REAL story and has it made into an audiobook for Hanna. Meanwhile, Hanna spends most of her time mooning over world's biggest slimeball, a perpetually stoned guitarist named Seth. He has no respect for her, treats her poorly, and there's no question that this will end badly. When Hanna is required to do volunteer hours for school, she requests to spend them caring for Gran, who, due to Parkinson's disease, can no longer walk, feed herself, or even speak. While she cares for Gran, she ends up listening to the audiobook of Helen's life, which she believes to be a work of fiction. Helen's story could have been a book unto itself. It was absolutely riveting. Hearing it, although she has no idea it's her Gran's life, begins to transform Hanna. She starts to have honest conversations with her mother about important life issues. She starts to realize that there's more to life than being jerked around by a careless boyfriend. She starts to grow up a little. Helen's ending was not quite a happy one. Hanna, however, has some choices she can make. I strongly urge you to read this book to find out how THIS book ends.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    I finished this last night and I will tell you I am still reeling from the way this story turned out and the feelings that it invoked in me. I began reading this story thinking it would be a YA novel - nothing too, you know. I was expecting the story to revolve around Hanna and her relationship with Helen and how it all revolved around the How It Ends story they are reading in the book (you know, a book inside a book). I had no idea the strong issues that this story would touch upon.I will confess that at first I wasn’t very thrilled with it. The first 100+ pages were mostly giving you an idea of who Hanna is, her school, her friends, and this crush she has on this boy, Seth. It also gives you glimpses into how Hanna and Gran Helen’s relationship came to be and how slowly as Hanna aged and became more interested in friends, hanging out, shopping and boys... their relationship has slowly dwindled. But if you can stick it through the first half of the book and get to the point where you begin reading “How It Ends” you will find a diamond in the rough. How It Ends not only sucks Hanna into it but, you as the reader too. You become immersed in this world where women are basically seen as reproductive tools, how terrible life can turn for an orphan and even more importantly how to survive this and eventually you’ll find a love story that will have you wondering and hoping that a love like that can actually exist. There is so much about it that I want to say, but I won’t, only because I don’t want to give anything away. The best thing about this story is that when it sucks you in you won’t be able to put it down until you get to that last page. There are so many surprising events that in the end you are just left open-mouthed and in awe by it.I truly recommend this and hope that, like me, you won’t be put off by the slow start. It was truly a gem.
  • Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
    5/5
    I had started reading this one quite a while ago and had put it down because I just wasn't that into it. However I am so glad that I picked it back up. Once I got into it the story just starts going and you are taken away with it. The main character are Hanna and Helen. Hanna is a teenager who is dealing with things most teenage girls deal with. Helen is dealing with aging and the ravages that can have on the body. The story follows the two through their own issues and shows us how their relationship has shaped them. This is as much a love story as it is a coming of age story. While I liked Hanna I didn't really connect with her. Even though her life seems pretty typical for a teenage girl I was not and never have been typical. So I could understand what she was going through, but I couldn't relate because I've never really been in her shoes. I loved the audio book that Hanna and Helen listened to together. To me that was where the real story took place. The audio book has all the makings of a great story. Love, sacrifice, pain, suffering, and friendship. It was truly a story that examined the human condition in its many many forms. It was a bit odd to read a story that was being read in a different story, it was an interesting idea and I think Weiss pulled it off without making it weird or distracting. Hanna and Helen were very well developed. Helen's story really pulled at my heart strings and I cried on multiple occasions. There were a few points that I was close to sobbing. I really got lost in this book and just let myself become absorbed completely by the story. This was a great book. I haven't cried this hard reading a book in quite a while. I will absolutely be picking up more of Weiss' work.

Book preview

How It Ends - Laura Wiess

Chapter 1

Hanna

This is not exactly the exciting new high school experience I had in mind.

I’m a month into St. Ignatius, a regional, parochial school nine miles from home and I still don’t know what I’m doing, where I’m going, or how I’m supposed to be.

Plus, this is the ugliest uniform in the world. It’s true. I would like to know what girl-hating hag cursed us with knee-length brown plaid polyester skorts, long sleeveless vests, and baggy yellow polyester blouses.

I wish Crystal’s parents had transferred her here, too, instead of keeping her in public school. Then we could be miserable together.

Oh, and I definitely need new shoes. Mine are loser wear.

Sigh.

I’d still rather be here with five hundred new kids, though, than stuck with nobody but the same boring, cliqued-out crew from junior high. They move in huddled masses just like they did in ninth grade, and seeing that makes me feel like some kind of intrepid pioneer striking out on my own.

Hanna’s big adventure.

It’s scary but I kind of like it.

(Cue Grandma Helen’s voice) Back straight! Stand tall! Look ’em in the eye! Smile! Never let ’em see you sweat!

(Cue my voice) Be brave, Hanna.

School would be a lot easier if I had a partner in crime.

I miss Crystal.

I’ve done some research and found that most of the older girls’ uniforms are way shorter and tighter than mine. I asked someone about it and she said that’s because everybody hems them up and takes them in. They wear killer heels and black panty hose, too. All against the rules, but most of the nuns are old and slow, so even if one tries to snag you on a dress code violation, you can usually outrun her before she IDs you.

Turns out only us lame sophomores wear long, baggy uniforms.

Time to convince Gran to do a serious overhaul on this hideous skort.

Well, it took whining, pleading, and begging but she’s hemming my skort even though my father said he didn’t spend three hundred dollars on a uniform to see it turned into something too small to wear to the beach. I said everybody wears them that way, and he said (of course), Come on, Hanna, if everybody else jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge…

He is so tiresome sometimes.

My mother laughed and told him it was just history repeating itself because she’d gone to parochial school, too, and had a uniform just as ugly, and she’d always rolled her skirt up at the waist because feeling ugly was no way to spend your whole high school career.

My father just looked at her and shook his head like she was hopeless.

She laughed again and tickled him in passing. He told her to quit it but I could tell he was trying not to smile.

I love it when everybody’s happy.

Oh my God, I’m in love.

Seth Kobilias.

I must have him.

He’s a junior, beautiful, sexy, sweet, and I found out that Bailey, the girl he really loved last year, broke his heart so now he supposedly parties hard and goes out with a lot of different girls because he was too hurt and doesn’t want to be again. He plays guitar, too, and hangs out in the courtyard.

I need to make the courtyard my new hangout ASAP.

I never felt anything like this before. I love his eyes and his smile and his hair and just everything. He’s really tall, blond, and a little skinny but it looks perfect on him. He even makes a uniform jacket and tie look hot.

He hasn’t noticed me yet but I can change that, I just know it. Good thing Gran Helen hemmed this uniform. Now at least when he does look at me, he’ll be able to tell I’m a girl.

Also, I hung out with another sophomore named Sammi Holloway who I think might be my next partner in crime. We’re pretty different—she’s thinner, flatter, richer, and sleeker than me, and next to her I feel like nothing but flyaway hair, frayed edges, and loose ends—but she cracks me up bad and so far I like her a lot.

I think we could have great adventures together.

Life is very exciting these days.

I took too many classes. I have to drop some right now. They’re interfering with my chance to meet Seth. The days are rushing by and I’m not getting anywhere because of all these stupid classes! I tried to dump algebra and physical science but Mr. Sung in guidance won’t let me. So maybe journalism and…what? There’s nothing else I can get rid of. I don’t mind dumping journalism; it’s all about facts, and who needs facts when imagining what could happen is so much more satisfying?

I kept creative writing but dropped journalism so now I have an extra free period and I just found out that for some reason my name isn’t on the sophomore Mandatory Community Service list. Yay! I probably should be worried about this but I’m not, and I’m sure not bringing it up. I can use the time for my Seth quest. I’ll just make it up next year or something.

I love a good computer glitch.

My parents went on a date last night—which kind of freaked me out because the last time they did that was like two years ago, and right after, they argued about growing apart—so I went down to Crystal’s and we passed the time hanging out with her older brother and his friends. They were full of compliments and if I didn’t like Seth so much, I probably could have found myself a boyfriend.

I hope he appreciates this sacrifice.

Oh. My. God.

Seth noticed me today. For real. And it was good.

No, better than good.

Great.

I was caught in a stream of kids changing classes, flowing down the right side of the hall, and there he was, heading toward me in the stream on the left side, ambling along, head and shoulders above the crowd, laughing at something somebody said and kind of scanning oncoming traffic as he walked.

I looked at him right as he looked at me and I swear time stopped. He held my gaze for like a full three seconds, then smiled this sweet little sideways smile and lifted his chin in a Hi. I smiled back and then we passed and he didn’t break the connection until he was almost past me.

He saw me. Out of all the hundreds of other people in that hall, it was me that he smiled at. Me!

These teachers take their classes way too seriously. I mean, I’m fifteen; I have like another seventy years to worry about zygotes or circumferences or whatever.

I wish I could just learn what I’m interested in, which would be creative writing, psychology, and nature stuff. And not biology. I don’t want to hack open dead animals; I want to study them alive and healthy.

If I ever have to take biology, I’m boycotting carving up dead things, and too bad about the grade. If anybody makes me do it, I’ll just throw up on purpose every single day all over the lab until they let me out. I don’t care. I will not mangle dead animals.

Gran won’t mind. Heck, she’ll probably give me a medal.

(Cue Gran’s voice) : No, Hanna, we don’t kill spiders; they’re the perfect natural insect control. Careful, you almost stepped on that beetle. Look, the spring fawns are out frolicking on the lawn!

Yes, she actually uses words like frolicking.

She is so embarrassing sometimes. (I would never tell her that, though. It would hurt her feelings too badly. Actually, I’d better call her soon or else her and Grandpa will show up at school or something just to make sure I’m still alive.)

Anyway, what I really need is less classes and more free time. How else am I supposed to develop into a sociable, well-rounded human being if I never have the time to get my hands on Seth?

Sammi’s doing trash pickup along the roads with a bunch of other kids for her community service, and yesterday some lady in a Lexus stopped and asked if they were from a juvenile detention center because usually only prisoners from the county jail pick up garbage, but they wear orange jumpsuits so everyone know they’re prisoners out on work detail.

Sammi, being tired, disgusted, and a smart-ass said they usually wore brown plaid uniforms and wouldn’t get released unless they completed their mandatory service, too.

The lady looked righteous and said, Well, I don’t know what you did to get into this situation, but I certainly hope you’ve learned your lesson, and drove away.

Sammi said it was funny but also pretty humiliating, and next year she’s just gonna stuff envelopes or something instead.

God, I’m glad I escaped this.

I’ve been sitting out on the curb in the courtyard in my free time, pretending to read or page through my notebooks but really watching Seth from beneath my hair and trying my hardest to will him to come over and fall in love with me.

So far, it isn’t working.

I am learning him, though, by watching and listening, and sooner or later that’s got to be worth something. I’ve already discovered that he smokes Marlboros, loves South Park, and is a killer flirt when he’s high. He also seems to be addicted to bitchy girls with long nails, ankle bracelets, and cool, you-can’t-touch-this smiles, which is kind of depressing.

Hey, Sammi said, plopping down on the curb beside me. Anything good going on?

You-know-who likes ankle bracelets, I said glumly.

So?

I hate ankle bracelets, I said.

I like them, she said, leaning back on her hands and turning her face to the sun. I think they’re hot.

I don’t, I said. They remind me of shackles.

She snorted, amused. Oh, c’mon Hanna, you can’t tell me that if he walked up to you and said you’d look hot wearing an ankle bracelet, you wouldn’t go right out and get one.

No, I said, irritated, and then, You’re a pain in the butt, you know that?

I love you, too, she said, smirking and bumping her shoulder against mine.

Chapter 2

Helen

It’s pretty quiet around here these days, Lon says, pulling out a chair at the kitchen table and easing down into it. He’s been outside cleaning the gutters and his arrival carries the mingled scents of hand soap, damp soil, and cold, matted greenery.

Mm-hmm, I say and ladle him out a big bowl of vegetable beef soup from the pot simmering on the stove. I set the bowl in front of him and, ignoring his searching look, head for the pantry to see if the last of the summer tomatoes have ripened yet.

Heard from Hanna?

Not since I hemmed up her uniform, I say without turning.

That was back in September, he says.

Was it? I say lightly, as if I wasn’t aware of every single empty second. Well, I imagine homework and such is keeping her busy. She’ll visit when she gets a chance. I wait, but other than a quiet exhale Lon is kind enough not to take it any further, as he knows it will only make me feel worse than I already do.

Most days I deal with Hanna’s absence by trying to keep busy: baking muffins, feeding the birds, enclosing the porch in clear heavy-duty plastic, setting up the heat lamps and readying the stray-cat condos for winter, raking leaves, and stapling new PRIVATE PROPERTY/NO HUNTING signs on the trees along the wood line. When those tasks fail to distract me, I remind myself that it’s normal for her to want to socialize with new friends rather than spend all her free time dancing attendance on an old one. It’s a bitter pill, though, and doesn’t go down well, so I’ve taken to calling Melanie Thury, Hanna’s mom, once or twice a week just to chat.

Aren’t you going to eat? Lon says.

In a minute, I say, holding the pantry door frame and stepping carefully down into the chill darkness.

My soup’s getting cold, he says.

Then start without me. I reach up and finding the pull cord, yank on the light.

The bare overhead bulb isn’t fancy but it does the job, revealing rows and rows of wooden shelves stocked with cabbages, buckets of carrots in sand, yams, potatoes, kale, garlic and onion braids, and of course, the tomatoes.

At the end of the season some gardeners pull the entire tomato plant from the ground and hang it upside down to let the green tomatoes ripen on the vine. I’ve never taken this shortcut as I figure no matter how well you shake the roots there will always be dirt and bugs left clinging and brought inside. My way takes longer but I’d rather go plant by plant, fruit by fruit, examining each for bite marks or spoilage, filling my buckets and then carefully lining each tomato up on the pantry shelf beneath sheets of newspaper so they can ripen at their own speed.

I lift the first sheet of newspaper. It rattles and I realize my hands are trembling again. This has been happening more and more lately, and I don’t know whether it’s low blood sugar or just old age smirking at me from around a shadowy corner, but I have no intention of letting it win, so after I eat I’m going to do more reading through my natural home remedy books for causes and cures.

Hey, Helen, I’ll make you a deal, Lon calls. If you bring me back one of those big, juicy beefsteaks, I might be persuaded to split it with you.

It’s his tone, teasing and tinged with the memory of a younger man’s mischief, that coaxes my first smile of the day. Oh, really? I abandon the small Rutgers tomato I was considering and move farther down the shelf to where the massive beefsteaks lie. Will I have to do anything R-rated to seal this deal?

No, Lon says, sounding startled.

Then forget it, I say, and at his snort of laughter, pick the biggest, ripest tomato we have, hide my trembling hand in my apron, and head slowly up out of the darkness and back into the bright, cozy kitchen.

Chapter 3

Hanna

Seth’s best friend is a junior named Connor, so to get closer to Seth, I said hi to Connor twice today in passing. He looked pleasantly surprised the first time and said hi back the second. This is progress.

Then Connor just happened to be outside my English class when I got out and walked me to my locker. We passed Seth, and I really didn’t like the looks they gave each other, like a thumb’s-up from Seth to Connor that he was walking with me.

This is not good.

Later on I dodged Connor by changing hall routes and ran into Seth in the courtyard by himself. There was no way I could just go up to him so I headed over to my regular spot on the curb and he said, teasing, What, you don’t want to talk to me?

So I went over and it turned out he was getting high and offered me weed but I lied and said, No, it gives me hives. (Weed at school. Right. Like my mother wouldn’t rip my head off and take it bowling if I ever got caught getting high at school. Especially a school my father keeps wondering if he can afford to keep me in. No, I’m not losing my chance at Seth just for that.)

Anyhow, Seth said something about Connor, like he was trying to find out if I liked him and I said, He’s okay, because I didn’t want to talk about stupid Connor, I wanted to make him like me.

He finished getting high and said, C’mon, let’s go into the cafeteria, I need something to drink.

I really didn’t want to lose my chance alone with him but what could I say? So we went, with him being silly and messing my hair up on purpose, and me walking slow to make it last and praying nobody was in the cafeteria, but of course Connor was, along with a bunch of others.

So what did imbecile Seth do?

Brought me right over to Connor and with a big dorky grin said, Don’t say I never gave you anything.

And then he went and sat at a different table with stupid senior Nutria Cerelle, who had great blond bed head but also wicked knock-knees and, although nobody seemed to realize it but me, a name that meant a giant swamp-dwelling, orange-toothed rodent.

What a stupid day.

Gran called earlier, my mother said when I dragged myself in the back door and dumped my books on the kitchen table. She said to tell you that she’s pickling the green tomatoes tonight so you should be there by six.

Well, I can’t go tonight, I muttered, peeling off my coat and slinging it across the back of a chair.

Why not? my mother said.

Because I already made plans, I said, opening the fridge and hanging on the door. Why don’t we ever have anything good to eat?

Eat a banana, my mother said.

I hate bananas, I said, scowling and closing the refrigerator.

You’d better call Gran and tell her you’re not coming, my mother said. Don’t just leave her waiting, Hanna. She counts on you.

I know, I won’t, I said and, grabbing my purse, headed up to my room.

But I did because I knew she would try to talk me into coming, and I didn’t want to go and that made me feel guilty. I mean, I pickled the tomatoes with her every year, and yes, I loved the steamy scent of hot vinegar steeped with fresh dill and pickling spices and how she always sent me home with a giant jar of my own, but I wasn’t really in the mood to pickle anything but myself so I went down to Crystal’s instead.

There was a keg party in the woods behind her house so I drank two beers, and spent the rest of the night flirting with some karate guy I never met before who showed me how to flip people and actually did a move and put me down real gently right in a pile of leaves. Twice. He was cute but his goatee worried me. Plus my parents would probably have heart failure if I ever brought home an eighteen-year-old with two-foot dreads and a giant FUCK tattooed on his biceps.

Yup, not gonna happen.

Well, that’s just great. While I was being tossed around by karate guy, Seth and Nutria the Rodent became a couple.

Sammi and I were standing in the courtyard when the Rodent-mobile pulled in, and Nutria and Seth got out. They held hands and walked over to her friends.

Stop staring, Sammi whispered, kicking me in the ankle. Here comes Connor.

And of course the first thing out of my mouth was, I thought Seth didn’t want to go out with anybody because he didn’t want to get hurt again. And Sammi gave me this Arghhhh look, but too bad. I was so freaked at the sight of the Rodent flicking back her bed hair and Seth smiling down at her that I wanted to throw knives at them.

Connor gave me a funny look. Yeah, well, I guess he changed his mind.

Then he said his parents were going away for the weekend and he was having a party and we were invited if we could get a ride there. He lives in the same town as Sammi, which is about six miles from me. Seth lives fourteen miles away. The Rodent lives in Seth’s town. Of course.

I hate my life.

Chapter 4

Helen

I don’t know if it’s the waning daylight, the inevitable withering of all things green, or the relentless approach of hunting season, but I’ve been getting up early before Lon, tending the woodstove, and brewing strong, sweet cups of apple harvest tea to try and hurry the dawn. I sit by the window and, with Serepta curled up in Hanna’s empty chair, watch the pale sun top the trees, the cardinals and mourning doves picking at the cracked corn sprinkled beneath the feeders, the does and their yearlings drinking from the pond, and beyond that, at the greatest distance, Hanna heading down her driveway to wait for the bus.

There she goes, I murmur, and Serepta’s ears twitch but she doesn’t open her eyes, so there are no witnesses to the tears gathered in mine. I wave at Hanna’s back and it’s meant as a greeting but feels like a farewell.

I wish spring was melting into summer now, instead of autumn hardening into winter.

I said that once to Hanna when she was twelve and she took my hand and pulled me up out of my chair, led me outside and around the property, pointing out how pretty the sun was in the clear blue sky, the vibrant scarlet of the sumac, and the fun of kicking up crunchy fallen leaves. We gathered pocketfuls of acorns and, like amateur Johnny Appleseeds, tossed them into the woods, picked catmint bouquets to hang dry in the pantry, and watched a monarch butterfly gliding on the breeze.

It’s a female, Hanna said as it swooped low and fluttered around the few remaining goldenrod in flower. You can tell because she doesn’t have those two dots on the bottom of her wings. I wish we had more for her to eat. It’s such a long migration… She stopped and looked up at me. Hey, Gran…do you think she knows she’s not going to make it?

I don’t know, I said after a moment.

Hanna nodded slightly and turned her gaze back to the butterfly still searching the fading goldenrod for nectar. I think she does, she said softly. I think she can feel it, you know? Inside of her, I mean. Like instinct. I think she knows she’s not going to make it all the way to Mexico before winter hits but she’s trying to anyway.

Why do you say that? I said.

Because it’s fall instead of summer and the air is cool instead of hot, and it takes longer for her to warm up in the morning just so she can fly because the sun isn’t as strong, Hanna said. She has to use more energy to find food, and the days are shorter so she has to find a safe place to roost before dark, which means she can’t cover as many miles in a day as the monarchs who migrate in July and August can. She glances at me. You gave me that book on them last Christmas, remember?

Yes, I said and tried to smile but couldn’t.

She looked back at the butterfly. She’s brave.

Valiant, I murmured and the word was bittersweet.

We watched in silence until the monarch finished feeding, and when she flew off, gliding to conserve energy, I heard Hanna whisper, "Vaya con Dios, little one. And then to me, Do you think sending good wishes with butterflies is stupid, Gran?"

No, I said, shading my burning eyes and watching until the butterfly was almost out of sight. I think it’s perfect.

Dear God, I miss my times with her so much.

The school bus finally crawls to a stop in front of Hanna’s house.

I watch her board, then make my way back to the kitchen to coax a second cup of tea from the leaves in the filter. Open the kitchen curtains and set up the coffeepot so all Lon has to do when he wakes is come down and turn it on.

He surprised me with that small kindness back when we were first married and we’ve been doing it ever since.

Making coffee isn’t a difficult task—not a task at all, really, especially not for a part-time waitress—but this morning I go through the motions hating the way my hands shake, this weakness that comes and goes at will, the muscle cramps, and the way my feet have taken to twitching like those of a cat in the throes of a dream.

If it was earlier in the season, I would have gathered wild skullcap and experimented with brewing a tea, and if money wasn’t so tight, I would do as my natural-healing books suggest and buy blueberries for the antioxidants, pineapple for the enzymes, and cashew butter for the proteins and B vitamins. I would try supplements like glucosamine and chondroitin for my aching joints, grape seed extract to help circulation, and maybe even gingko to strip the fuzziness from my thoughts.

But money is tight, and while we’re not going to starve, for the first time ever I regret giving away all those tomatoes, peppers, and zucchinis this summer instead of making myself can or freeze them. I only preserved half of the crop this year because canning alone wasn’t nearly as fun as canning with Hanna for company, and so now I’m grateful that we still have as much fresh, good food stocked in the pantry as we do.

I’m still not ready for winter; I hate driving to work in the snow, the slick roads and icy steps, hate having to walk the deer path alone in the cold, gray dusk, and the long, bleak days with no company but my own thoughts.

And I worry about the heat.

Lon can’t fell the dead trees or cut, split, and stack wood like he used to, but we need at least five cords to make it through, and I don’t know how we’re going to get them. The house has electric baseboards but the cost of running them has become too high and so the woodstove in the living room will be our only source of warmth.

We could buy a cord or two and maybe barter for the rest, find someone looking to make money selling firewood and offer him our dead trees providing he splits our half of the wood, too. I can probably stack it if I move slowly and don’t push too hard.

Or we could impose on Wes, Hanna’s father, to help, but I hate to do it. He works such long days and what little free time he has left should be spent with his family.

I don’t know.

I can’t find an answer.

I fix the second, weaker cup of tea and return to my chair by the window.

Serepta opens her limpid green eyes, stretches, yawns, and goes back to sleep.

The strays—I counted five of them out on the porch this morning—are curled up in the homemade cat condos on the back porch. Soon it will be cold enough to turn on the lamps set above their beds, as the clear plastic sheeting protects them from the snow and biting wind but offers no real warmth, and the single-bulb lamps help chase away the chill.

I’m so afraid of the day I can no longer afford to care for these castoffs and orphans and will have to make myself turn away and ignore them milling around out there, cold, skinny, and starving, begging and calling and never understanding why I’m not answering their pleas for help.

Never understanding at all why I am failing them.

Chapter 5

Hanna

Connor is all over me—I swear he memorized my schedule like I memorized Seth’s—so I’m trying to avoid him without being mean, and at the same time, now that I don’t want to see Seth and the Rodent, all I ever do is run into them. There they are kissing, there they are getting high, there they are walking down the hall holding hands.

I give up.

Well, not really.

I just hate seeing her leaning against him with her bed hair swishing all over and her pointy little rodent face right there waiting to be kissed.

I wish I had bed head and a rat face, too.

No, no, no.

They sit at their own table in the cafeteria, chairs facing each other, her legs slid between his…ugh. It’s so bad that I can’t even go in there and eat anymore.

Love, I have decided, is hard.

I slept over Sammi’s last night. Her little brother wouldn’t leave us alone as we were getting dressed for Connor’s party and kept whining, Where are you going? but luckily her mother had a date and believed us when we said we were walking down to the diner and maybe the strip mall.

Anyway, we walked to Connor’s since it was only like a mile away.

The love couple wasn’t there, but somehow that made the night even worse because Connor kept cornering me with this hopeful puppy-dog look, which made me feel bad because I just don’t like him back, so right before we left I ended up giving him a mercy kiss in the back hallway for like one minute. Then he tried to ask me something, but I checked my watch and was like, Where’s Sammi? We’re past curfew! and ran.

Why do the ones I like never like me? Why do I always get the ones I don’t want?

Seth, you jerk. You give me a giant pain.

Seth came up to me at school while I was heading for the bathroom and with this big cheery grin said, Hey, I hear you’re going out with Connor.

And I said, "What? I am not! Who told you that?"

He stopped smiling. Connor.

And I said, Well, he’s wrong.

Then Seth got this cold look and said, "Well, you better tell him that because he really likes you and he’s telling everybody you two are going out and now he’s going to look like a fool."

And I was thinking, How is that my fault? I never said I’d go out with him! But I hated the way Seth

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